


Tapestry

by emmaliza



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Drunk Sex, Jon Snow knows nothing, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Semi-Public Sex, and the serving girls always get beaverdammed, drunk Robb is power bottom Robb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 18:13:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12347928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/emmaliza
Summary: "You know, all through the feast, I couldn't stop thinking about what I'd rather have in my mouth instead?”





	Tapestry

Theon sighs in contentment and a drink of ale, serving girl blushing and giggling as she walks off and returns to her duties. Alright, he won't be going to bed with her any time soon – Robb would be mad – but still, she's a pretty thing who's gotten him half-half and not punched him in the face, so all in all, not a bad experience.

Speaking of which, Theon sees a pert little arse walking past him casually in the smoky dark, grins, and reaches out and grabs it. “There you are.”

He expects Robb to jump and blush and look around in a panic, terrified someone might have seen them, but instead he just gives Theon a hazy smile, cheeks stained red. _He's been drinking._ “Aye,” he says and quickly takes the seat by Theon on the abandoned bench, stealing his mug. Theon makes an irritated noise. “Thought you wouldn't notice. Too busy with that girl.”

“Come on, Robb. You know I have to keep up appearances.” Robb does know that, but he gets possessive sometimes anyway. Sometimes Theon likes it when he does that. Robb doesn't say anything, just hums and takes a gulp of Theon's ale, before setting it back down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, lordly manners forgotten.

He grins, and leans in close to Theon – not so close it couldn't just look friendly from a distance, but still. And the strong hand on Theon's thigh beneath the table is clearly more than friendly. “I missed you, you know. Up there on the dais. Couldn't stop thinking about you.” His hand moves up and squeezes Theon's crotch shamelessly. “'Bout your cock.”

 _Drowned God._ Robb must be really drunk; usually it takes some effort to get him to talk this way even in his chambers, let alone in the Great Hall with his Mother and Father at the other end of the room. Still, it's not like Theon doesn't know he has it in him, once Theon really winds him up. He laughs. “You and half the girls in Winterfell, Stark.”

Robb squeezes him tighter at that. “Yeah, but they're not getting it, are they? Not anymore,” he whispers in Theon's ear, leaning in as close as he dares, still not crossing the boundary that could raise suspicions even at a distance (not that anyone can see their faces anyway). “Your dick's all mine, Greyjoy. You know, all through the feast, I couldn't stop thinking about what I'd rather have in my mouth instead?”

Alright, Theon's not made of stone. At that he makes a choked noise and his cock jumps in Robb's hand. Robb laughs. “Look at that tapestry on the wall,” he says, and nods over Theon's left shoulder.

Theon blinks, trying not to squirm at Robb stroking him through his breeches. “What? Why?”

Robb lets go of his cock and smacks his thigh. “Just do it.”

Theon's cock jumps again at that, although he tries to hide it, sighing theatrically. “Fine,” he mutters. Robb grins and gets up from the bench, still a little shaky on his feet, as Theon reaches for his ale again and turns to stare at the aforementioned tapestry, a rather pretty scene of sunflowers by a riverbed – Sansa did it, he thinks, and bloody prodigy that she is it's already good enough to hang in the Great Hall, even if it doesn't exactly fit in with how grim the place is. Theon sighs, now left fully hard and wondering what the hell Robb is playing at.

A few moments pass and then Theon feels hands at the front of his breeches again, fumbling to unlace him. He chokes on his ale. It's not unlike Robb to smack him and tell him what to do, nor is it unlike him to get on his knees and suck Theon's cock like a man starved, but the combination of the two is a bit of a surprise.

Still, after thinking it over, Theon decides he's up for it. He spreads his legs wide to give Robb more room to move, smothering a groan as Robb pulls his length out and gives it a firm stroke. If he'd known what Robb was going to pull, he might have drunk a bit less himself, since this is really the sort of thing they should do as quickly as possible, and the drink in Theon's system won't help there. Still, it was Robb's idea, not his, and hopefully buried in the shadowy benches the servants sit no-one will notice them. Theon's glad they've all gone to drink and gamble and fuck outside.

He badly wants to peak under the table and watch as Robb wraps that pretty mouth around his cock, but he remembers what Robb said. _Look at the tapestry._ Theon doesn't actually keep staring at the tapestry itself, because that would probably be just as suspicious as staring under the table, but he gets the point – _don't look at me._ So he doesn't; he lets his eyes explore the room casually, like there's nothing interesting going on beneath him.

Robb is at least bright enough not to tease; he swallows Theon deep on the first go and then bobs his head quickly, sucking hard and circling over the head with his tongue, making Theon grunt and thrust into that warm wet mouth. Robb moans as he fills his mouth, so softly even Theon barely hears him, but he smirks regardless. He can just imagine the look on Robb's face, eyes shut in bliss as he rubs himself through his breeches. _He's such a whore for cock,_ thinks Theon, even though deep down he knows he's hardly one to talk.

Theon sighs and gives himself over to the rhythm, to the pleasure, letting Robb take his fill. He can't say how long he just sits there with Robb sucking away before he hears: “what are you doing back here, Greyjoy?”

He looks up to see Jon Snow staring down at him, somehow looking more sullen than ever. Theon expects Robb to stop once he hears, so they can wait for Snow to go away, but he doesn't. He only swallows Theon deeper, taking him all the way down his throat, and Theon digs his nails into the table to keep from moaning. _Bloody figures,_ he thinks. Robb's always had a thing about sex in risky places, not that he'd ever admit it, and he's managed to talk Theon into sex in the corridors, the godswood, and even his mother's sept (not that Theon's ever really tried to talk him out of it).

Well, if Robb's not going to stop, Theon can hardly let on to Snow that something's up. He grins. “Why, looking for you of course,” he says. “I get so lonely without you, you know.”

Snow just rolls his eyes at that, and Theon jumps as Robb scratches down his thigh. He bites his lip to keep from smirking. Perhaps he's made the little lordling jealous. “Ha ha, very funny,” he says. “What poor serving girl have you chosen to bother tonight?”

Theon chuckles as Robb swallows him fast and deep, a better cocksucker than any girl in these castle walls. “Don't feel so sorry for them Snow; the girls all come practically begging for my cock, it's just a same there's not more of me to go round – _shit!_ ”

And suddenly Robb does something with his tongue that makes Theon thrust his hips forward and gasp, spending down his throat in an instant. Jon blinks for a second, then he turns bright red and covers his mouth with his hand, appalled. _Shit._

“Seriously, Theon, at the fucking feast? Under the table? What is _wrong_ with you?!” Theon doesn't know how to answer that question. _It wasn't my idea,_ he wants to say, but that will cause more problems that it's going to solve. Jon sighs dramatically. “I hope whatever girl you paid for that at least got a fair price for fulfilling your fucked up fantasies.”

Theon has to grin. “What makes you so sure I was paying, Snow?”

Jon rolls his eyes again. “Yeah yeah, the girls all love your cock, they'd do anything for it.” _Not just the girls._ “Whatever, I don't care. I'm going somewhere else.” He storms off in a huff, and Theon chuckles. He's actually kind of cute when he's angry.

Beneath the table, Robb pulls off him and wipes his mouth with his hand, sighing. “He didn't see me?” he asks, sounding a little more sober now.

Theon smirks, still not looking directly at Robb. “Don't think so. His head probably would of have exploded if he had,” he says. “Though you might be stuck there for a little longer. You get back up now, even he might figure it out.”

Robb makes an irritated noise. “You're just thinking of excuses to keep me here, aren't you?”

Theon shrugs, still looking around to make sure no-one's looking at them, or listening to them. “I was thinking about it. You, tied up and ready to suck my cock at any moment; you can't blame a boy for being tempted,” he says. “You'd look good in chains.”

Robb growls and digs his nails into Theon's thigh again. “Not as good as you,” he says, both a promise and a warning.

Theon gasps slightly, but manages to laugh through it. “We'll just have to compare then,” he says breathlessly. Robb's still trapped under the table, but Theon's trapped under Robb – and neither of them really feels trapped at all.

 


End file.
